


Bitter, Sweet, or Strange

by Fortune_Maiden



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Coffee, Female Byleth, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Other Blue Lions appear in the first half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-04 07:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21194015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fortune_Maiden/pseuds/Fortune_Maiden
Summary: Is the coffee sweet or bitter?





	Bitter, Sweet, or Strange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NightsMistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsMistress/gifts).

> For NightsMistress 
> 
> Aaaadmittedly this isn't post-Ch 17 Dimitri, but this kinda felt more like a pre-timeskip story...

It was a fish stew, allegedly. As far as Flayn’s culinary attempts went, the red liquid didn’t _look _particularly worrisome, which may have been why the inconspicuous bowl that had been served with the rest of their dinner escaped their notice. She wasn’t on kitchen duty that night, and the rest of the meal was appealing and delicious as always.

Byleth enjoyed mealtimes. She enjoyed sitting at the table with her students and watching their colorful personalities come out. Annette and Mercedes talking quickly and eating slowly. Dimitri shoveling food into his mouth with little rhyme or reason. Dedue and Ingrid occasionally reminding him to slow down. Sylvain playfully teasing the prince about his manners. Felix trying to finish his meal in silence despite his friends continuing to engage with him. Ashe laughing along and joining in the conversations springing up around him. And Flayn happily and expectantly looking around.

It wasn’t until Byleth heard Mercedes mention that it didn’t seem like the other tables got any soup that the red flag registered. And by then, it was already too late.

“I made it!” Flayn, overhearing Mercedes’ comment as well, suddenly announced. “We had some spare fish from the recent festival, so I wished to try cooking for you all as a token of my appreciation.”

The table went silent at this announcement as everyone began to take notice of the little bowls on their trays. It may not have looked too bad, but the layer of herbs and the smell made Byleth a little skeptical. She couldn’t smell any actual fish. The only thing her nose felt was a mishmash of flavors. As she looked around the dining table, she could see her students wear similar expressions of concern.

“What did you say was in here?” Felix was significantly more open about his reluctance, but Flayn didn’t seem to notice as she happily rattled off a list of herbs. Ashe visibly paled at her words. On the other end of the table, even Dedue looked uneasy.

That was enough convincing for Byleth. She had a duty to protect her students (even from the horrors of the kitchen), and that had to come before encouraging Flayn’s enthusiasm. Before she could stand up to put an end to the soup then and there, Sylvain suddenly lifted his spoon, and at once all eyes were on him.

“Alright, guys, let’s not be so quick to judge,” he said. “Look at his Highness. He’s already halfway through.”

Dimitri had the bowl in his hand. He appeared startled by the sudden attention, but with everyone, Flayn especially, anticipating his comment, he could only avert his gaze and say, “It’s not too bad. Has a bit of a kick to it, I suppose.”

Which was all the convincing Sylvain needed.

“See, you heard his Highness,” Sylvain spoke up jovially, in an attempt to liven the mood. “Bon Appetit, right?”

With those words, he lifted his own spoon to try the soup. Unlike Dimitri though, he immediately dropped the spoon and covered his mouth as he began to cough. As everyone began to fuss, he reached for his glass of water, and gulped it down as though his life depended on it. Then he reached for Ingrid’s glass and did the same.

“That’s…some kick…” Sylvain finally breathed out before plopping his head on the table in defeat.

From the other end of the table there, was a startled cry as Annette’s spoon clanged against her plate. Only the tip of the spoon was red, suggesting she’d been much more cautious.

“That’s not a kick. That’s a knockout punch!” she declared indignantly. Across her, Mercedes winced, as she blinked rapidly to keep tears from forming in her eyes.

“Oh my. The texture isn’t too bad, but it's so bitter…”

Byleth grimaced. “Flayn, did you try this?”

“I did not,” Flayn admitted cautiously. By now, she was well aware of the failure of her dish. As the table descended into chaos, Byleth beckoned her over and let her take a spoonful from her own bowl.

Flayn’s reaction wasn’t quite as extreme as Sylvain’s, who still kept his head down on the table defeated, but her expression soured. “I see,” she whispered, quietly accepting Byleth’s glass of water. “It is as you say. It does feel as though I have been punched in the mouth. I sincerely apologize, everyone.”

Byleth sighed. “Let’s just clean this up. Ashe, Dedue, can you help me?”

“Of course!” Ashe jumped up from his seat, shooting Flayn an apologetic look. Dedue stood up as well, but his gaze was on Dimitri, who still held the spoon and the bowl in his hands.

“Your Highness, please stop,” he said, holding his hand over the plate. “That’s enough.”

Sylvain shuddered and lifted his head weakly. “How did you even eat that?” he asked. “Dude, seriously no. You’ll be glued to the toilet all night.”

“Must you be so crass?” Ingrid snapped at him, before turning to Dimitri. “Sylvain’s right though, your Highness. Does the bitterness really not bother you?”

“Not particularly,” Dimitri admitted, and seemed annoyed at Dedue taking the soup away, though he didn’t put up any fight.

Ingrid and Sylvain seemed to have several objections to that comment, but Byleth didn’t hear them as their voices were drowned out by more fussing and the other students bustling around to help clear away the failed stew.

That exchange stuck in Byleth’s mind though, and she kept an eye on Dimitri’s confiscated bowl. Before Dedue could dispose of it, Byleth quickly cut in to take it, offering to take care of the disposal and washing the bowl, so Dedue could help Ashe instead. Dedue agreed and gave it to her.

Before she poured out the stew though, her curiosity won over and she took a spoon and gingerly tasted it. At once a whirlwind of culinary crimes assaulted her mouth. “Knockout punch” was an apt description, she thought as she scrambled to find some water. Byleth’s taste buds cried in pain. How in the world did Dimitri eat this without even batting an eye?

As she struggled to get the bitter taste out of her mouth, Byleth’s thoughts stayed on the prince. He was probably the least picky of her students (or anyone Byleth knew maybe), always shoveling into his mouth whatever meal was placed in front of him.

Byleth always thought he enjoyed eating. Now, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something more to it than that.

With a suspicion in mind, Byleth (and everyone else) kept a close eye on Dimitri through the rest of dinner.

Then, after cleanup, when everyone went their separate ways, Byleth sauntered to the kitchen, and picked up to two mugs.

* * *

She found Dimitri in the library, alone. Balancing two steaming cups of coffee in her hands, she approached.

“How’s your stomach?” Byleth asked in a casual tone, startling Dimitri into looking up from his book. He frowned.

“You too, Professor?” he said in a critical tone. “I am fine. I hardly see the need for such dramatics over a young girl’s culinary attempts.”

“I understand it’s hard to look Flayn in the eye and tell her the truth. But the bitterness of that soup went far beyond safe human consumption…probably.” Byleth had always kept an aloof mask, but the memory of the distasteful stew in her mouth sent an involuntary shudder down her spine. “Yet you hardly flinched. And managed to get through half of it, before Dedue finally stopped you. That’s…concerning.”

“My share must not have been as bad,” Dimitri said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I suppose I got lucky.”

Byleth could feel the knot in her stomach tighten. “Perhaps,” she agreed. “Mind if I sit?”

Dimitri shook his head and Byleth set the two mugs on the table before sitting down across from him. Dimitri’s gaze lingered on the coffee mugs curiously.

“I just wanted to check in on you,” Byleth said simply. “If you’re really feeling alright, how about some coffee?”

He relaxed and gave her a soft smile. “Yes, thank you,” he said and reached over for one of the mugs, wrapping his hands around it. “I could use the caffeine.”

“Yes,” Byleth said quietly and reached for her own cup. She held it up for a sip but kept her gaze on Dimitri the entire time as he brought the cup up to his lips and took a steady gulp.

“It’s good,” he told her.

She nodded and quietly sipped her own drink as a silence fell between them. Byleth had never been one to carry a conversation, but now she knew she had to be the one to keep it going.

“I’m surprised,” she said forcing a soft smile forward. “I didn’t think I’d find a coffee buddy like this.”

“Oh?” Dimitri looked at her and chuckled. “Yes, I suppose a lot of us do prefer tea. As I recall, Professor, you seem to be an avid tea drinker as well. I’ve had the pleasure of coming to one of your tea parties.”

“Yes,” Byleth agreed. “But I meant I didn’t think I’d find someone who has similar coffee tastes. I like to put in a lot of sugar.”

Dimitri raised a brow. “How much sugar?”

“Um… five spoons, I think?”

“_Five?_” Dimitri eyed his own cup suspiciously. “That’s…a lot.”

“Yes.”

She waited for some sort of reaction, but Dimitri just shrugged and took another gulp. “Considering how calm and collected you are, this sweet tooth of yours is endearing.”

“I could say the same about you.” _Were it true_, Byleth added mentally, her initial suspicion coming close to dangerously confirmed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she prepared for the kill.

“Dimitri, that was a joke,” she said quietly. “I didn’t put in five spoons of sugar into your coffee.” She looked him firmly in the eye. “There’s no sugar at all in your coffee.”

She searched his face for signs of a reaction. He averted his gaze and his jaw tightened slightly, but otherwise Dimitri maintained his composure.

“I knew that,” he replied with a smile. “I don’t see you the type to make extra sweet coffee for someone not knowing their preference.”

“Except I am,” Byleth instantly backpedaled. “That was a lie just now. I really did put in five spoons of sugar.”

Dimitri paused. His mouth hung open slightly as he examined the coffee mug, but he didn’t say anything. He set the cup on the table and closed his eyes in deep thought.

“Is the coffee sweet or bitter?” Byleth asked. “Tell me the truth. _Can_ you tell?”

Part of her wanted to believe that she could still be wrong. She’d hold on to that hope until she heard otherwise from his lips.

But it wouldn’t last.

“No,” Dimitri finally said in a low defeated tone. There was a smile on his face, but his eyes were downcast. “It’s as you’ve guessed. I can’t tell how it tastes. I can’t really tell how anything tastes.”

“Since always?”

“Since… the tragedy.” Dimitri took a deep breath as the mention of the incident sent unwanted memories forward. “I don’t know how or why, but everything I ate started having a bland taste to it. It was unsettling at first, I suppose at some point I simply got used to it.”

Byleth nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. Her heart felt heavy.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Rodrigue.” Dimitri’s answer was quick. “I couldn’t have hidden it from him if I tried. But that’s it. No one else needs to know.”

Byleth wasn’t sure she agreed.

“It’s not a big deal, really,” Dimitri said in what probably passed for a reassuring tone to his ears. “I’m getting the nutrients I need, and you never have to worry about me disliking a dish.”

He had his likes and dislikes, of course. But they were probably based on his past preferences and maintained for appearance sake. He never gave more than an obligatory remark when served something disagreeable. Dimitri always cleaned his plate.

Byleth never really had preferences herself, so she didn’t pay much attention to others’ either. In the mercenary world, pickiness was a luxury. But the monastery boasted a variety of chefs and flavors and though Byleth still didn’t think she had any particular favorites; she knew how much she enjoyed trying out the different kinds off the kitchens would serve. Meals tasted even better with her colleagues and students and cooking the food and experiencing the flavors come to life was yet another enjoyable experience.

Byleth never complained about the mercenary life, and when she looked back, she could say she enjoyed it. But her world was bland before, brought to life by the experiences at the monastery. She didn’t think she could ever go back to that blandness.

“Is it really okay for your friends not to know?” Byleth asked quietly.

“What good would it do to tell them?” Dimitri asked, his voice bitter. “Would you have them worry about things they can’t fix and pity me even more than they already do?”

The remark stung, but before Byleth could counter it, Dimitri continued.

“I wouldn’t even know how to tell Dedue. When I think about how hard he tries to cook something he thinks I would like… His cooking is good. I know this in my heart. And yet all I can offer him is empty platitudes as he searches for the perfect recipe I’d never even be able to realize.”

“Don’t say never,” Byleth said. “You’re bringing too much on yourself.”

“I just don’t want him or anyone else to worry,” Dimitri said tiredly. “This isn’t worth the trouble.” As if to prove his point, he reached once more for the maybe-sweet-maybe-bitter coffee and finished off the mug.

Byleth shook her head.

“Professor, please, forget about it,” Dimitri said. “It’s okay.” _And don’t tell anyone_, Byleth could see him struggling not to say.

“I’ll keep your secret,” Byleth assured him, because it wasn’t her secret to tell. “But I won’t just forget.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Byleth had come out of concern for her student. She’d come hoping he would debunk her suspicion. She hadn’t wanted to face the truth. “But maybe I can still help.”

“How?”

“I may not agree with you wishing to hide this from your friends,” Byleth said. “But tonight was certainly a close call for you, wasn’t it?”

Dimitri smiled ruefully. “Yes, I should consider it a stroke of fortune that it was only you who caught on. I will be more careful in the future.”

“Yes, I will as well,” Byleth promised gently. “I can do that much at least. You don't have to face everything by yourself.” At least until Dimitri could feel comfortable sharing it himself one day.

“Thank you, Professor, I appreciate it,” he said and lifted the emptied coffee mug. The was a small smile on his face.

“Now, can you please tell me. Was the coffee sweet or bitter?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> This was very much inspired by a certain scene in Tales of Symphonia. As soon as I learned Dimitri couldn't taste, I really wanted to write a story where someone tricked him into admitting it using the Lloyd Irving Method.


End file.
